


Glowing Crosses

by aneurysmface



Series: Oh, Common Life [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: I promise, M/M, Mentions of Allison Argent - Freeform, Peter is underage (15) and Chris (21) has some inappropriate thoughts about him whilst drunk, but there's no actual sex, mentions of Victoria Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 16:30:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1435204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aneurysmface/pseuds/aneurysmface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of the first time Chris and Peter meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glowing Crosses

When Peter was younger, he was the typical rebellious teenager. He hated being at home, felt like there was no hiding from anyone (which there wasn’t, because he lived in a house full of werewolves with super-powered senses), so on the nights when he felt his skin starting to itch, he’d go running through the preserve. Sometimes he’d run as a human, upright and proud, but most of the time, he’d drop to all fours and race through the woods, zigging around trees and zagging past bushes. He’d let his claws slip out and dig into the wet earth, let his fangs drop a bit and his eyes glow golden. His eyes had still been golden when he was an angsty teenager. They hadn’t turned blue until he’d come back from the dead. Chris knows all of this already.

It was on a night when the moon was thin and low in the sky when Chris and Peter first met.

Chris was a few months shy of 21, sitting under a large pine tree near the edge of the quarry on the outskirts of the preserve with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and a pistol. He was out of it enough that he didn’t hear Peter approaching, even though the wolf made no attempt to be quiet. If Chris had been paying attention, he would have noticed what that said about Peter’s state of mind. In fact, Chris didn’t even notice Peter until the wolf went barrelling past him and over the edge of the cliff.

He had stood in a hurry, his protective instinct kicking in before anything else, but when Chris looked down at the water, all he could see was the gentle ripple. Chris had been sure he’d hallucinated the entire thing until a figure surfaced, flinging water everywhere with a flip of its hair. He’d breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t known he’d been holding when the person started swimming for shore.

Chris had only just gotten re-settled under his tree when he heard a branch snap a few feet away. He spun, but moved too quickly. Between the alcohol and the speed of his reflexes, Chris ended up on his ass instead of with his feet planted firmly and his gun outstretched.

“Easy, hunter. I’m not out to hurt you.” Peter had taken in the whiskey, the gun, and the secluded location by now. “That is, unless you _want_ me to hurt you…”

“Fuck off.” Chris bit out his reply with his eyes squeezed tightly shut against the still-spinning world.

“Such harsh language for the eldest Argent son. I expected a more...refined vocabulary.” Whenever Chris thinks back on that first night, he realizes that Peter Hale hasn’t changed much at all over the years.

“Yeah, well, ‘mnot much of a son from his point of view.”

“Then that makes two of us.”

“What? Yer Peter-fuckin’-Hale. Everyone loves you.”

“Everyone, it seems, except dear ol’ mom and dad.” Peter had sat down next to Chris at that point and had stretched out a hand for the bottle. “I don’t suppose you have any essence of aconite handy?”

Peter remembers that he had blinked a few times, but pulled a vial out of his jacket and handed it to Peter.

“Much obliged, Christopher.” Peter had poured the vial into the whiskey and given it a swirl before he raised it to his lips with a wink and took a long pull. Chris had been mesmerized by the bob of Peter’s throat as he swallowed, had found himself leaning toward Peter.

 _Here he was_ , Chris remembers thinking, _all of fifteen, drinking like a pro, looking pornographic while he does it_.

Chris remembers that thought because it had been what violently snapped him out of his daydream about licking Peter’s neck, his idle musing about whether a werewolf would appreciate being bitten on the neck by a human--by a _hunter_.

Peter had been only fifteen then. Fifteen and (mostly) innocent, untouched by fire and the loss of most of his family. Chris had stumbled to his feet.

“I should get going.”

Peter had just nodded. He’d kept the bottle of whiskey, though. Chris didn’t think to take it from him, just started wobbling off toward the road home.

“Oh, and Christopher? I don’t think this will be the last time we see each other.”

Chris had glared at him and left town three days later to meet Victoria Arsenault before he married her a month after his twenty-first birthday.

He’d thought that would be it; he’d never see Peter Hale again. Then, before he knows it, Allison is seventeen and he’s moving into a house just down the block from where he used to live in Beacon Hills. The Hales are supposed to be all dead or incapacitated. Chris never expected to be standing on the front lawn of the hollowed out Hale house watching as the man--still a boy in Chris’ mind, though--he once bared more of himself to than anyone else was burned alive.

Then, Chris had been certain that would be the last he saw of Peter Hale. Peter was as dead as you could get, and Chris had naively hoped that would put an end to the thoughts that had haunted him since he’d learned Peter had survived the fire. Thoughts that were all rooted in a pair of lips wrapped around a bottle of wolfsbane-laced whiskey and how Peter had bared his throat to Chris that night.

Chris had been wrong again, because on his second-to-last night in the house where he’d had to help kill his wife, he’d looked out his window and seen an unmistakably familiar figure standing on the front lawn. A figure that Chris had last seen wrapped in flames and with agony on his face. There was no way it was possible, but Peter had been standing there on Chris’ front lawn like a beacon, like a glowing cross laid out and lit to taunt him.

**Author's Note:**

> [Glowing Crosses](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FGHJBVeFYyM) by Fireworks.


End file.
